Slaughtering the Defenseless

When I was twenty-one, I attended a party at a relatives house along with several mutual friends. It was a safe environment – we were young and looking for a good time. While most of us were raised in church with a strict list of what will send you to hell, we thought we’d explore for ourselves. And people think it’s just the preacher’s kids that rebel.

We’d been playing cards, like many of us had grown up watching our parents play, all while sipping on wine coolers, wild turkey, royal crown, and whatever other liquor was popular at the time. Our card game soon turned into a game of quarters – something I had never played before and never played again.

I remember making my way to the living room and passing out on the couch. I faintly remember a relative changing my shirt, as I had vomited all over myself, and putting me back to rest on the couch.

When I woke, I wasn’t bright eyed and bushy tailed, I wasn’t even groggy – I was in an in-and-out type of wake. All was black and quite… except for the faint breathing I could hear as I bobbed up and down with my back flat to the floor. I remember trying to figure out why I was on the floor as I remembered being on the couch, all the while feeling this touch between my legs that felt good – odd, but good. I lay there… bobbing – hearing myself moan.

Slowly, I became increasingly more awake and it hit me… I felt my pants at my ankles and heard the sound of steady heavy breathing. I tried to rise only for a hand to push me back to the floor… and I screamed.

Later that day, nearly night again, I was whisked away by mother to the hospital where they ran special test, gave me a pill to swallow, and brought in the police. I was naked and ashamed, with complete strangers wanting to know about every detail… and all I could think about was that my father was mortified and couldn’t speak to me. A daddy’s girl I had always been… now everything was lost, stolen, in a moment.

A few days later I had a detective show up at my work, where he proceeded to take me to his car in the parking lot and drill me about the incident of that dreaded night. I sat in his car, embarrassed as all of work could see – visitors coming and going could see – it was if the whole world could see and hear every horrifying detail of what had just happened. I listened to this detective no longer drill me but accuse me of “asking for it”… word had gotten around in the town I liked to drink, and since my engagement had been called off, I also liked to sleep around. My bad choices in a two year span had left a detective feeling entitled to belittle me – the victim, whose name had already been listed in the small town newspaper with all the horrific details of my reported attack. I was made to be the bad person.

For reasons I won’t disclose, I was the girl that had no self-esteem. And in that moment, this detective convinced me that I was the one at fault and this would be best left alone… and I believed him. Without a trial – justice is served.

Only a handful of people know this about me – it’s not something you share publicly. Of course, there was a time when I shared with another that was too a victim of rape – healing is found in testimony. But it’s not something you broadcast to the world.

So why do I share now?

I read an article today that stirred anger within me – honestly, it’s been stirring since all the Bill Cosby garbage has been taking place, but today I go a different direction with it. The direction…

Abortion.

“New York Assembly Passes Bill Allowing Shooting Babies Through the Heart With Poison to Kill Them”

They have now stated that you may kill a child in a mother’s womb in the third trimester, no more for simply the mother’s life being at risk, but for whatever reason deemed fit… including but not limited to, physical well-being, emotional well-being, family issues, and the mother’s age. Weeks, days, and even minutes before birth, you may now kill your baby.

What kind of society do we live in when it is acceptable to murder an infant? I am literally sick to my stomach thinking of such perverseness.

I didn’t realize until some years later the pill given me in the hospital that night was something to prevent pregnancy. I remember months passing and me sweating at nights thinking I could be a mother at twenty-one to a kid I didn’t want… I didn’t want the reminder in my face day in and day out of what had occurred that night. I didn’t want to look in the face of that child and see the face of that guy. But I knew, even at twenty-one, if there were a kid, it was innocent. Someone would love that child, want that child, not ever knowing how he/she had come into this world and would fully embrace all that child had to offer.

My “story” had already been published. People already knew. I rarely showed my face to people out of shame and embarrassment. What would nine more months be to me in something I already knew, something I was already living? The shame of a bad choice which landed me publicly humiliated and my life altered, forever – hell on earth.

Yes, I would have carried a child I didn’t want because it was innocent.

I understand the morning after pill. After time it became obvious I took it, and I now carry mixed emotion, which tends to lean more for it than against it. Perhaps that sounds hypocritical while I rant on about the killing of a third trimester baby. I’m all for woman’s rights, yet I cannot stand with them on this matter. Women’s Rights came about in order that women may have equal rights as men. I’ve never know a man to be pregnant and therefore cannot call this equality in any shape or fashion. It is murder. Nothing more, nothing less – the slaughter of the defenseless. I pray God have mercy on our souls.

To those whom have had abortions, I say this – I know you carry a burden of shame and unforgiveness toward yourselves but I believe God’s mercy offers us a new beginning while His grace provides us an opportunity to heal others. We overcome our own burdens, our shame, and our fears by sharing our story with others – redemption given to you exuding to others.

To those who were victims of rape, I say this – it is never your fault. Whatever mistakes you’ve made in your life never warrant you becoming the accused. Do not be intimidated by people’s words or fearful of judgment by bullies who have their own secrets to keep. Demand justice and make your voice heard. You are not defenseless.

We all have things we keep secret – wrongs we struggle with, shameful choices taunting us, wounds too fragile to ever expose. These things keep us from being loved wholly and from loving wholly. But to all that pain, that guilt, that shame, I say this… there is mercy, there is grace, there is redemption.

“Every choice you’ve made… Every good thing… Every bad thing… Every regret… Every risk… Every gain and every loss… Every moment in your life has led you to this moment of your life. Lessons learned, celebrations earned. Your past has made your present and your present will give way to your future – never does it define you but always is refining you. Embrace you – the good, the bad, the past, the present – love and be loved. Life is too short to hide behind walls. You – you are beautiful in every way… a work of art, a treasure – you are valuable… because of your past, your present, and your future. You’re a story worth telling yet still unwritten.” ~ Pj 02/2014

I Know What You Did Last Summer

David ruled as King of Judah for seven years before he ruled another thirty-three years as King over all of Israel. He had gone from herding sheep and killing lions and tigers and bears, oh my, to killing giants with stones. He was a hero over night. Can you imagine the attention he was receiving; apparently not just from the women either?  This shepherd boy brings order to a kingdom as he has placed his life on the line in battle time and time again. This well built, muscular, manly-man, who wore a tool belt shirt-less was not merely eye candy, he was powerful eye candy. The kind of candy that is both bold and sweet. There wasn’t a fair maiden in all the land that didn’t wake each morning, pillow wet with drool, as visions of more than just sugarplums danced in their head.  Can you imagine being a shepherd boy and now king of an entire nation? It had to go to his head, I mean really.

The dude was supposed to be at war, where the king is supposed to be in the spring with his men, and he decides he is staying home to enjoy the scenery.  Basking in the sun on the roof, working on his tan no doubt, when he becomes the first peeping tom – he sees a woman bathing, (interesting enough her name is BATHsheba)  seeing that she is beautiful – and decides he wants a close up. Alas, our first glimpse of pornography has just occurred.  

He sends messengers for her. What? Really? Did they give her the message that the King wanted to sleep with her and thus as a married women she refused and so they drug her off? On the other hand, did she want to go because in spite of her husband being at war she was home alone and a powerful man wanted her? In which case, does that mean the hot king raped a beautiful woman? Or does it mean that it was consensual? Oh the places my mind goes. Alas, I digress…

The woman becomes pregnant and sends word back to the king. The King remains calm, he is King, and he has a plan. He sends for the woman’s husband to come home. Basically, he’s given the royal treatment in order that he would sleep with his wife and there’d be no suspicion of where big fat belly came from and went in nine months. However the king wasn’t prepared for the husband to refuse to sleep with his wife which results in the king freaking out. His crazies begin seeping out when in fact if he had kept something from coming up and out to begin with, he wouldn’t be worried that his sins would find him out. Alas, he is a mortal man who happens to be king with power and means, thus his crazies escape and he has the woman’s husband killed on the front lines at war. Now he can look like the hero and bring the widowed woman to be and live with him. (Never fear King David is here to save the day – making him a rock star!)

For the next two years the King thought he had gotten away with his sin however, one day there was a knock on the door. This man Nathan showed up and told the King in a secretive, mysterious type of voice, “I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER!” Ok, technically it was three springs prior nevertheless the king was busted.  

David repented. God forgave. The child died.  

 The moral of the story: Sin is sin, God knows what you did or what you didn’t do, and while He forgives, He also punishes.

My former spouse decided some time ago that he didn’t love me and he never had. I was often told this during our marriage, to the extent even of being told that he married me because his mother wanted him to; that he should’ve married his first true love; and so on and so forth. We were together for a total of 15 years and I was never good enough.

We dated for 18 months when he broke up with me. I don’t remember the exact reasoning but I remember we were sitting in his truck at the local, small town, airport. And I remember thinking if this guy is dumping me there is no way I am ever going to find a guy in this world that is going to meet my standards based on what I was taught to look for in a man. Thus, I became promiscuous, setting out on a path of self-destruction with a dash of bad choices thrown in for flavor.

Six months or so later, my former spouse and I had gotten back together. I had not told him of my indiscretions, he didn’t ask so I didn’t tell. That is how the saying goes these days, correct? Shortly after our reunion, I was raped. I was 21 and the assailant was only 15. It made the papers and I, the victim, was the bad one because of my flavorful life over the past 6 months so I dropped the charges. This is where things once again changed for my former spouse and me, though I wouldn’t know it until years later when he told me that he viewed me as damaged goods.

Anger and shame can be a lonely road filled with potholes. While we both tried to create the life we had dreamed of in our heads, we failed because we would not, perhaps could not, deal with truth – the core of the issue. It became easier for him to lash out, become violent, and flat out nasty while it became easier for me to lie and sink deeper into my depression.

The last year of our marriage, I had my own king, a married king that is, who showed interest in me and I responded. I entertained his interest with flirtations, emails, and phone conversations; I was lonely for attention, to feel loved and wanted. While I did not sleep with this man as Bathsheba did with David, I did engage myself in adulterous correspondence. Jesus says in his sermon on the mount that if you look at another lustfully than you have committed adultery. Alas, I had committed adultery; I had bathed in it.

Be sure your sins will find you out. David and Bathsheba were both wrong, assuming he didn’t rape her, which I’m not convinced that he did or did not. The fact still remains that sin is sin. God forgave them and he also punished them. While God forgives my former spouse and me, we now have to deal with the consequences of our actions and our children receive the punishment because of it.

Make no mistake, God hates sin. He will punish those that choose to walk in it and trust me; He always knows what you did last summer.

Copyrighted by reflectionsbypj 2010/01/31